


A Variant Thread

by wordslinger



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, Literal AU, a what if fic, canon!verse, sex and violence blah blah, total jouska
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8858125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslinger/pseuds/wordslinger
Summary: Imagine a world where one domino wobbled but didn't fall. AU wherein Ultear fails to possess Jellal and what might've happened in the aftermath of the slaves' escape from the Tower of Heaven.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am again fulfilling my own wishes. Fairy Tail as a story has a lot of moving parts and this is where I'll be examining what might have happened if Ultear had failed to possess Jellal. I won't be hitting every plot point in the manga, just the ones particularly relevant to Erza and Jellal and the bond they share. Chapter lengths will be inconsistent and as episodic as I can make them. Posting schedule will be erratic and unreliable.

_X776_

The sound of whipping ricocheted off the walls of the stone hallway. This place had never been anything other than a haven of death and violence. Spatters of blood seeped into every inch of rock, and the screams of slaves would haunt the island long after The Tower of Heaven was nothing but a pile of rubble.

Erza clenched her fists as the guards shoved her further and further from the rooms of punishment and Jellal. Tears leaked from her remaining eye and she thought that one eye would never be enough. She could spend the rest of her life trying to fill the buckets of shame she felt over allowing herself to be dragged away after Jellal had worked so hard to free her.

They said he'd committed murder to get to her – Erza did not feel even a _shred_ of remorse for the dead – and in return she'd been too weak to even warn him of the approaching guards. A sickening slap of leather against skin oozed into her ears and was followed by laughter.

It was enough. _More_ than enough.

_Enough._

Erza spun around and swept her foot into the ankles of her surprised captors – it hurt more than she anticipated and overshadowed the lingering pain where her right eye used to be. Their boots were thick leather and the impact would likely leave a deep bruise but it was worth it to see them topple into one another. Before she could decide against it, Erza curled her fingers around the shaft of a fallen spear and buried the end of it in the side of the first guard. She didn't think – only acted. Thick, dark blood seeped from the wound. He groaned and Erza twisted the spear.

Beneath the first guard, another writhed. She wasn't strong enough to shove the dead weight aside, so she simply jabbed the spear through the space between twitching arm and body. The blade stuck in something hard and Erza leaned all her weight against it. Finally, the spear sank down and a soft gurgle could be heard under the mound of dying flesh.

Her breaths came hard and painful. She'd never pondered taking a life before, even though she'd considered her own death more than once. Erza's teeth dug into her cheeks and she tasted blood. They were dead.

She exhaled heavily and spied the hilt of a sword poking from the belt of one of the dead guards. After pulling it free, Erza focused her gaze back down the hallway. Peals of laughter carried. Finding Jellal before more guards arrived was paramount. As she made her way toward the one cracked door, her heart crashed against her rib cage. She'd had the element of close quarters and surprise before. Jellal's captors would see her coming this time. Fear began to work it's claws into her chest and the sword slipped against her sweaty palm.

Suddenly the door swung all the way open and Erza made a snap decision. She saw his gut first and didn't hesitate to ram the sword – and all her body weight – against his heavy form. With a strangled gasp her prey fell backward onto his partner who squawked in surprise. These two were not the same as the men who'd dragged her away before. They were in robes and unarmed.

“Hey!” a muffled voice screeched. His arms flailed in an attempt to push the larger man off but nothing budged. Erza slashed at the mass of limbs until her vision blurred with tears. These were the ones who'd been whipping Jellal. They deserved every cut, every flare of pain, every –

_“Erza!”_ His voice echoed in her head and she paused. Jellal's eyes were wide when she met them. He frantically tugged on the ropes that bound his wrists. “Erza, _stop!_ ” The tip of her sword struck the floor and she felt the blood from the blade begin to pool at her feet. “They're dead,” he whispered.

“Jellal.” His name fell from her lips and a frustrated gust of wind ruffled her tunic. The fabric was cold now, and stiff. She was crying again.

“It's just rope, Erza,” he said quietly. “You can cut it, okay? Just come cut the rope and we'll get out of here.”

Erza glanced down at the sword still in her hand. She didn't quite recognize it. It was too big for her and covered in blood. Erza dashed forward into Jellal and wrapped her free arm around his middle before wildly swiping upward. The sword's hilt slipped from her fingers and the blade clattered to the floor. Jellal's wrists were still tied together but his arms circled her.

“Don't think about it,” he whispered into her hair. “We just have to get out of here.”

“What about the others?”

“We'll get them, too.” Jellal released her and tore at the knot around his wrists with his teeth. The scraps of rope fell free and he took her hand. “Today is the day we take back our freedom.”

* * *

 

The moon was full and bright. Erza fell backwards into the sand and blinked away her tears. The skin surrounding her empty eye socket twitched instinctively and she wondered if her body would ever adapt to the loss. Her eye slid shut and Erza saw Grandpa Robb falling to the ground. She'd seen – and caused – so much death but his absence stood out harshly against the blur of blood and salt water.

“You were worth it, Erza.” The soft voice beside her interrupted the replay. “He gave his life for you, and I think after tonight he wouldn't like it if you cried over him.”

Erza let the tears spill over her cheek and into the sand before rolling her head to the side. Jellal smiled at her and peeled the trapped strands of her dirty hair from the edges of her eye patch.

“How can you smile?” she whispered.

“Because it's all I know how to do. Everybody expects me to smile and Milliana cries when I don't.”

“She'll cry anyway.”

“Maybe.” His smile widened and he poked his fingers in the damp sand. “I care more about _you_ crying, though. How's your eye?”

“It's fine.” Erza watched him purse his lips. He knew she was lying.

“Tomorrow we'll find Grandpa Robb's guild. They'll know what to do.”

“Will they take all of us?”

Jellal shrugged and stretched out next to her in the sand. “I don't know but we've gotta go somewhere.”

Erza's gaze drifted back up to the moon. The air tasted different on the mainland. She'd forgotten what it was like to not be a slave. “I don't know if we could've gotten through today without you, Jellal,” she whispered.

“You'd have done just fine,” he said with a quiet laugh. “I've never seen anyone fling swords around like you. I _know_ you'll be a great wizard and make Grandpa Robb proud.” The sound of their companions rustling around in the grass just beyond the shoreline finally quieted and Erza felt the weight of the day bearing down. “I haven't seen the sky like this in a long time,” Jellal muttered.

“It's pretty,” she offered.

“It's _beautiful._ ”

* * *

 

Erza didn't like Fairy Hills. Her bed was too big and sleeping alone was hard. Erza thought maybe something was wrong with her because Milliana loved her new room and slept through the night without waking in a cold, lonely sweat. Blood soaked dreamscapes haunted her mind and it was these horrors that pushed her over the edge of reason and rules.

Even though she'd done it before, Erza's heart still raced with the fear of being caught when she silently slipped from the building. Magnolia was never completely dark but she didn't need anything more than the yellow street lamps to reach her destination. There was no equivalent of Fairy Hills for boys. Master Makarov had secured rooms for Simon, Jellal, and Sho with his own credit and a promise-to-pay.

Jellal's room was four doors down on the first floor. Erza didn't count anymore. She knew which was his by touch. The hinges didn't squeak and the floorboards didn't creak. As always, he was awake. He lay facing the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head. When she crawled next to him, Jellal rolled to his side and tucked the blankets around them both before pressing his forehead to hers.

Erza breathed a sigh of relief. Her entire world had changed except this one thing. Jellal's finger brushed the edge of her eyepatch and she didn't flinch away. She knew he felt guilt over her missing eye, but didn't hold him responsible. Jellal said nothing and Erza welcomed dreamless sleep.

When she woke, she was alone in the bed. Erza turned under the blankets to find Jellal shuffling his belongings around from dresser drawer to dresser drawer.

“What are you doing?” she asked softly.

“You overslept,” he stated, not looking up from his stack of shirts and socks.

“Did I?” Erza sat up and leaned forward to see out the window. The sun was higher than she'd have liked. “I should go.”

“You don't have to.” Jellal slid the bottom drawer shut and stood.

“I don't want to get you in trouble...” she trailed off and picked at the loose fuzz of his blanket.

“This place isn't like Fairy Hills, Erza,” he said, pulling out the top drawer that was now empty. “I won't get in trouble for having guests. Unless you really want to go?”

“I don't.”

“Good.” He pointed to the drawer. “You can keep stuff in here if you want. I don't mind.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“I don't know.” He shrugged and slid his hands into his pockets. “Whatever you want, I guess. Clean clothes, soap, a toothbrush. Running across town just to change and brush your teeth seems silly when we're both going to the same place for breakfast anyway.” Jellal met her eyes with new seriousness. “You've been sleeping later and later. I hate to wake you.”

Erza blinked in surprise. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and joined him in front of the dresser. The drawer was big enough to hold all the contents of a small knapsack.

“Are the dreams that bad?” he asked. Erza's fingers curled around the edge of the drawer. She'd never said why she came to him at night. Not once had she mentioned nightmares but he'd guessed all the same. “I have them too.”

“I wake up and I can't breathe,” she whispered. “I hate it. I hate being so cold and – and by myself. I wasn't ever alone _before._ ”

“I'm sorry you have to come so far but –”

“It's okay,” Erza exhaled heavily and turned to him. “I think the matron at Fairy Hills would squash you on sight if you got caught sneaking into my room.”

“We can't have that,” he said with a grin. Jellal suddenly reached out and touched the fine strands of hair that were starting to grow past her shoulders. “I'll leave the drawer empty for you.”

Erza and Jellal left the building together. It didn't escape her attention that when Simon joined them outside, his lips were firmly, _disapprovingly_ pursed.

* * *

 

Jellal peered into Erza's new eye. He knew it was made of a magical glass but it didn't really look any different than her other eye. She blinked and broke his concentration.

“Can I see the mirror now?” Erza asked nervously.

“Oh, sure, right.” He handed over the small looking glass and watched her take a deep breath before scrutinizing her own reflection. Jellal panicked when her shoulders began to tremble and tears leaked from her one natural eye. He set aside the mirror and took her hands in his. “What's wrong? Does it hurt?”

“No,” she said. “No, it doesn't hurt.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

“Because I never thought I'd look like myself again.”

“You always looked like yourself to _me_. Even with the eyepatch you still looked like Erza,” he said quietly. Jellal felt Porlyusica's gaze on his back.

“Well?” she asked harshly. “Can you see through it?”

“Yes,” Erza whispered. “It's fixed.”

“Well, go ahead and get out, then. I can't stand you humans.”

Jellal set aside the mirror and moved toward the door. Porlyusica's annoyed gasp stopped his hand just short of the knob.

“Your eye!” she exclaimed. “That shouldn't be happening. I made no mistakes with the medicines or spells. Why are there tears only coming from the one?”

Erza finally smiled and swiped at her wet cheeks with her shirt sleeves. “It doesn't matter. I've already cried half a lifetime of tears anyway.”

The change in Erza was palpable and Jellal's chest felt lighter as they made their way back to the guildhall. Master Makarov had been silent since leaving Porlyusica's tree. He didn't speak until their group of three reached the edge of town.

“Erza,” Makarov said carefully. “Would you mind giving Jellal and I a moment?”

“Of course, Master!” Erza smiled fully and Jellal couldn't stop himself from smiling, too. He'd never seen her so bright. Once they were alone Makarov turned to him with a somber expression.

“How are you settling in?” he asked frankly.

“Pretty good, I guess.”

“I've done some asking around and it seems the other children who escaped with you have found guilds of their own. ” Makarov paused and hoisted himself to a bench. “There's been reports of former slaves popping up here and there. Dark magic cults continue to be a blight.”

Jellal fidgeted when Master Makarov eyed him seriously.

“ _Your_ magic is quite curious. I don't believe I've seen anything like it before.”

“I'm still learning.”

“Learning is a thing that never stops, Jellal. Even masters of their craft have new skills to pick up.”

“Even you?”

Makarov laughed and broke the tension of the moment. “Yes, even an old man like me can learn new tricks. The reason I pulled you aside is along these lines, Jellal. You need a teacher. Your potential is immense. I felt it on you the moment we met.”

“Is... is that good or bad?”

“Potential is neither good nor bad. It's a thing that hasn't happened yet.” Makarov sighed. “What I'm trying to say is that there's someone who might be able to help you. He used to work under a somewhat obscure branch of the government but that ended badly from what I've heard.”

“Badly?”

“Nothing to be alarmed about,” the old man said with a grin. “I'm told a fire broke out and destroyed the entire facility. Only a few were able to survive. At any rate, he's taken up residence west of here and –”

“You're sending me away?” Jellal asked breathlessly.

“You don't have to go anywhere, of course.” Makarov shrugged but his expression was grim. “But you'll never realize your full potential if you stagnate. Is there something keeping you here?”

Jellal poked at a rock with the toe of his shoe. “Well –”

“If you're worried about Erza, don't be. She's a strong mage on her own but, like you, needs to grow.”

“I want to be a valuable member of the guild.”

“You are _now_ but I have a feeling that with the proper instruction you could be a _very_ powerful wizard. There is one important thing you should know before making the decision to go.” Makarov shifted uncomfortably. “I don't want to cloud your view but there's always rumors floating around and Brain's work is no exception.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

Makarov met Jellal's eyes soberly. “I mean, he's sometimes regarded as unorthodox. I'm told by my contacts on the Magic Council that Brain is a strange man. He hasn't explicitly broken any laws or protocols but he _does_ toe the line.”

“When will I have to go?”

“Whenever you like.” Makarov relaxed again and hopped off the bench.

“So I can have time to say goodbye?”

“It isn't really a goodbye, Jellal,” he said softly. “You'll be back, I have no doubt. You and Erza are all part of my family now. That red stamp on your shoulder blade means you're a Fairy Tail wizard. Becoming a pupil to an outside master won't change that.”

* * *

 

_X777_

Jellal's eyes swept the riverbank and found Erza alone. Her ankles were crossed and the breeze coming off the rushing water fluttered her scarlet hair. He missed her already but if he didn't leave _now_ , he didn't think he ever would. Jellal crossed the walkway and fell into the plush grass beside her.

“Hey,” he said, catching a strand of hair between his fingers. In the last year it had grown longer, and thicker. He'd also noticed that she'd put on a healthy amount of body weight – they both had. “Are you busy?”

“Nope.” Erza smiled up at him and the same smile that always tugged at the corner of his mouth whenever in her company, showed itself. He didn't even care if that made him a sap. Erza sat up and scooted backwards to sit next to him. “Are you going to tell me your secret?” she asked bluntly. “I know you've got one.”

Jellal's smile turned sheepish. “I'm so obvious?”

“Only to me.” Erza nudged his shoulder with her own. Jellal sighed and tugged on the stalks of grass. “I know whatever it is keeps you up at night.”

“You noticed that?”

“Of course I noticed.” She fell silent and her questioning eyes stung him.

“The Master found me a teacher,” he said quietly. “A while ago, actually. I've been dragging my feet.”

“Why?”

He glanced up and her expression was soft and not at all judgmental. “Because I'll have to leave Magnolia.”

“When?”

“Soon.” He hesitated and sighed. “Tomorrow.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” she asked. Hurt had seeped into her voice.

“Because I don't want to leave and talking about it out loud made everything more real.” He watched her nod in understanding. She ran her fingers through the grass and he didn't prod for a response.

“Do you need help packing?” Her voice was barely audible.

“No, but I do need to know that the person I care about most forgives me for keeping a big secret from her.”

“Jellal,” Erza began with a sad smile. “There's nothing you could do that I wouldn't forgive you for.” He slumped sideways against her and let his eyes fall out of focus. Erza's hand found his and squeezed.

“My train leaves at eight in the morning,” he muttered. “I'm going to miss your birthday.”

“It's okay. We both know it's not my real birthday.”

“I got you something.” He sat up straight and reached for his pocket. Erza grabbed his hand back.

“You can give it to me tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“If you think I'm sleeping alone on the last night you're in Magnolia for who knows how long, you're gravely mistaken.”

Jellal smiled and pulled her into his side. “Fair enough.”

* * *

 

The earrings sparkled in their box and Erza smiled just as bright.

“I'll get my ears pierced right away!” Jellal's face fell. He hadn't thought of that. “I love them and once I have them in, I won't ever take them off.”

“You don't have to promise me anything like that, Erza,” he said running his hand through his hair awkwardly. She took him by surprise with a tight embrace and her lips brushed against his cheek.

“I do promise, though. Thank you, Jellal,” she whispered.

When Erza was asleep and her breaths fanned over his neck, Jellal's brow furrowed intensely. He'd only been alive for thirteen years – many of which he couldn't remember clearly at all – but he was very certain with regard to Erza.

He loved her.

He loved her enough to leave her. Makarov's words had stuck with him. His magic was growing stronger and there were times when he didn't feel altogether... _safe._


	2. Chapter 2

_X778_

Jellal stared up at the ceiling of the one room in Brain's castle of secrets he could call his own. He wasn't foolish enough to believe he had actual _privacy_ but he did have the quiet and – at night – the stars. They kept all the secrets of his heart and served as a reminder that despite the oddities of his current situation, he still shared a night sky with Erza.

Being surrounded by Brain's ragtag guild of former child slaves made Jellal uneasy. The other children worshipped him and hung on his every word in a way not completely unlike the cult of Zeref that had held them prisoner. Was this truly what respect of power looked like? Surely not!

A gust of wind ruffled the leaves of the ivy that clung to the castle walls directly below his window. Jellal's eyes slid closed and he shivered pleasantly in the chill. Images of home flipped through his mind's eye and he recalled Master Makarov – _also_ a powerful and respected man of Wizard Saint status. He couldn't remember anyone in Fairy Tail gazing at Makarov with the same feverish devotion. No matter which direction Jellal's view came from, the adoration Brain had gleaned from his small guild didn't seem to be built on much more than childish hero worship.

He supposed if he'd been plucked from the shores of Fiore the way Erik, Sorano, Macbeth, and Sawyer had, he'd be a little less skeptical. Even so, everything about Brain unnerved Jellal. It wasn't hard to resist the constant reminder that there was a permanent place for him here, but the smug expectation that he would eventually do so, needled him.

Mastering his own magic felt quite a bit like coming home – even though the concept of home was nearly foreign to Jellal. The way he'd so easily taken to the power of the stars didn't surprise him in the slightest. He'd like to have studied the skies and the intricate delicacies of magic hidden there forever but he knew Brain had other plans.

Jellal's natural affinity for quickly grasping and applying diverse theories of magic to practical use fascinated Brain. The way his eyes flashed with delight was a source of near constant disquiet.

* * *

 

Erza pulled the letter from her pocket and ran her fingertips over the page. She'd read it at least five times since it had been delivered to Fairy Hills that morning. Of course she was happy to hear from him but written words weren't at all the same as having him in person. After the new year Erza planned on training for the S-Class trials and, in a corner of her heart, she really wanted Jellal to return before then. Somehow it didn't feel right seeking promotion without him.

“Hey, Erza,” Simon's voice behind her rattled the peace. He'd been doing that a lot lately. She knew that his feelings for her leaned toward the romantic but she didn't return them. Moments like these when he intruded her thoughts, as well as a space she'd often shared with Jellal, made her irritation spike higher than normal levels. Simon wasn't a bad person, he was just persistent in a way she didn't think he was entirely aware of.

She stood, brushed the scraps of grass she'd been shredding from her skirt, and turned away from the riverbank to face Simon. Jellal's letter was still in her hand and his gaze flit from her face to the sheet of paper.

“Is that a letter from Jellal?” he asked in a feigned casual tone.

“It is.” Erza folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope. “He writes to me when he can.”

“How's his training going? Is he still planning on coming back to Fairy Tail?”

Erza sighed. “He'll be back. Just... not yet.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked, quickly moving on from the subject of Jellal.

“No, I think I'm going to head home for now. I –” Erza stopped abruptly. She didn't want to admit she hadn't been sleeping. Not to Simon. His recent boldness might lead to an offer of late night company which would lead to an awkward rejection. “I have a headache.”

“I can get you something to help, if you want!”

“No, that's kind of you but I just need to lay down.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. I'm always here.” Simon paused and frowned. “Jellal isn't the only one who cares about you, you know.”

“I know, Simon. Thank you.” Erza brushed past him quickly. She wished she could stop him from trying to declare himself all the time. His eyes burned a hole into her back as she left the riverbank behind.

Erza breezed through the guildhall to snatch a random job from the board on her way home. She'd taken many such jobs over the last year just to get away from Magnolia and prying eyes. It seemed her closeness with a very absent Jellal hadn't gone unnoticed. Erza didn't want to depend so heavily on him, but it was hard to lock that part of herself away when Jellal had stitched himself right on the surface of her heart. Or maybe she had been the one to stitch him there?

Every time she returned to Magnolia with a heavier coin purse, Erza felt stronger. Her collection of enchanted armor and weapons grew at an impressive rate. She pushed herself to extreme levels of physical training. Part of her wanted to believe her goals were solely rooted in the desire to attain an S-Class rank before Mirajane, but the more realistic part of her knew she was distracting herself from the gaping hole Jellal had left behind. Why did love have to sting so deeply? Erza could admit she loved him as much more than a friend, but was also prepared for him to draw a platonic line. Did that make her as pathetic as Simon? She didn't know.

* * *

 

_X780_

One day the letters stopped. The folds and creases of the last one she'd received were worn to the point of damage. When the snow melted and summer approached, Erza's anxiety mounted. The S-Class trials were speeding toward her with no sign of Jellal.

The sudden drop off of communication was accompanied by a malicious suspicion that Jellal had realized he didn't need her nearly as much as she still needed him. Erza had no doubts of her magical strength and ability to pass the S-Class trials without so much as a stumble but inside her shoddily armored heart, she felt a crippling insecurity. Jellal had been gone for _two years_. Always the stronger one, he'd probably risen above the darkness of their past and moved forward. Erza, however, felt stuck.

Personalachievements aside, sealing one's emotions off from outside influence did not equate to moving forward. Nearly every night she dreamed of small, trembling hands clutching at bloody blades. A looming fog of helplessness followed her well into the afternoon. Even her new tactic of breaking into his empty apartment and burying herself in his pillows hadn't chased away the nightmares. His pillows no longer smelled of him and carried only the scent of laundry soap.

After all the efforts to shut away her heart – Jellal's lingering absence and the lack of correspondence being the final brick in the wall – she still hadn't found any resolution.

* * *

 

Jellal's fingers itched. Not the way they used to – this itch was entirely new. His magic didn't claw at him anymore. He had control – _so much control_ – over himself. The itch that tickled the tips of his fingers had nothing to do with magic. He knew the sensation to be a phantom of something he missed. Something red and soft.

Brain's practices continued to be brutal and strange, and Jellal had fallen to his knees more than once under the pressure. _Attachment_ , Brain said, _is_ _a distraction_. So, he'd put Erza and everything he missed about Fairy Tail in a private box on a shelf in his mind but now... he _itched._

“You don't have to go,” a quiet voice said behind him. Jellal didn't turn. He'd expected Brain to make a final attempt. The fact that Sorano would allow herself to be so easily used, appalled him.

“I do,” he muttered.

“You could stay.” She called herself Angel now – they all had new names except for him. Jellal suspected this was another one of Brain's tactics to present exclusivity. The trick didn't appeal to him at all.

“I can't.”

“Brain can be tiresome in his zealotry, I know, but it doesn't need to be about _him_.”

Jellal finally spun around and Sorano smiled. She wasn't unattractive by any means. Her silver hair curled around her shoulders in true angelic fashion, but there was cunning in her eyes.

“As long as you wear his mark, it _will_ be about him,” Jellal stated firmly. Sorano's smile faded.

“I washed up on the shore the same as you, Jellal. You aren't better than me. Brain _saved_ us.”

“He's _using_ you.”

“We _choose_ to stay. Isn't your Master Makarov using you, even if just a little? He sent you here to cultivate a Fairy Tail asset.”

“He didn't send me. I chose to come because I _want_ to be an asset. Protecting the people I love is a _choice_ I've made.”

“You're Brain's favorite,” Sorano said in a whisper. “You outshine us all. The others won't admit it, but it's true. The way you take to every little thing he throws at you, no matter how odd or arcane, is unsettling, Jellal.”

“What's he doing?” Jellal interrupted.

“I – I don't know what you mean.”

“Brain is doing _something_. I can feel it. He's a collector, Sorano.” Jellal watched the lines on her forehead deepen. “What are the _Six Prayers_ and what does _Nirvit_ mean?”

“I – what?” She shook her head. “ _Nirvit?_ Is that a word?”

Jellal sighed and his eyes fell to his feet. She'd avoided the topic of the _Six Prayers_ like he'd expected but the word _Nirvit_ had thrown her. “I'm not surprised you don't know.”

“What does it mean then?” Her tone was laced with exasperation.

“I have no idea but Brain is planning something and his exuberance is unnerving. He's shown me a lot of things in the last two years – I've mastered magic I'd never even considered before.” Jellal frowned at the palms of his hands and whispered, “He told me I could become a Wizard Saint if I wanted to.” Sorano shook her head again in confusion. “It's all bluster. He's got something on a back burner and it's big. Brain is playing a longer game than he lets on.”

“Jellal, you're not making sense.”

“Maybe not but I can't stay here anymore. You can tell him whatever you want but don't forget what I said. Don't close your eyes to his ambitions and the role you and the others play in them.” Jellal met her eyes again and she pursed her lips. Sorano turned to leave but stopped just in front of the door.

“I have a sister, did you know that?”

“I didn't.” He watched her spin around again and stare at him with perhaps the most honest expression he'd seen in the last two years.

“You're right about Brain. Savior or not, he _is_ a liar. For the past several months, he's intercepted your communications home. I saw him destroying a letter myself.”

Jellal scowled and his fingers curled into a fist. “Why?”

_“Attachments,”_ Sorano whispered. “I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. Go home, Jellal.”

She fled his room before he could suck in another breath.

* * *

 

Jellal's decision to not send word of his arrival beyond a brief missive to Master Makarov, was the product of nerves. He hadn't seen Erza in two years and he couldn't guess her state of mind – especially since he now knew none of his recent letters had ever made it into her hands.

He'd left Magnolia with a single knapsack and returned with an only slightly bigger knapsack. The town looked the same, and the air tasted like something sweet and familiar. Night hung over him like an old friend and he smiled up at the stars. He'd come to know them all by name.

The face of his apartment building hadn't changed at all – though the hallway carpet sank a little heavier beneath his feet. All the doorknobs glinted in the moonlight from the line of windows. He counted down to the fourth door and swung it open. Silence cloaked everything but the deafeningly painful thud of his heart against his ribs.

Swirls of scarlet painted the white pillows that were still piled at the head of his bed. His blankets rose and fell evenly with the gentle pattern of sleep. Jellal dropped his bag to the floor and crossed the room with his last breath still caught in his lungs.

Erza's eyelashes brushed the apples of her cheeks. There was no stopping himself from brushing the mussed strands of hair from her face. Erza was still Erza, but she'd _changed_. He hadn't considered the space between thirteen and fifteen until this moment.

Suddenly, without warning, her eyes flew open and she sat up straight in the bed to gape at him. Jellal leaned back and scrambled for an excuse as to why he'd touched her when she was sleeping – even though he was deeply curious what she was doing in _his_ bed.

“Jellal,” she whispered surprise. Erza blinked and clutched at the blankets. “What are you doing here?”

“Well –” He smiled and noted the deep flush of her cheeks. “It _is_ my bed.”

“Oh!” She fidgeted awkwardly. “I suppose it is.” Erza slid out from under his blankets and stood. A shimmer of light surrounded her and he could very clearly make out the shape of her body. He blinked and she wasn't in her pajamas anymore but a shirt and skirt. Jellal's mouth felt full of cotton.

“Uh –” The two years away from her had changed a _great deal_ of things. “You... what was that?”

Erza arched one eyebrow curiously. “A requip. It's what I do. You know that.”

“But – _not with your clothes_. At least not in front of _me_.” Erza turned an even brighter shade of red. “I mean, it's fine! Great, even! You can do new things, and I can do new things...” He trailed off and cleared his throat.

“I should go,” she said softly.

“Please, don't,” he blurted. “I missed you so much, Erza.” His words came out in a rushed breath.

“I missed you too.” She glanced down at her hands before tucking a strand of hair behind one ear. A familiar earring dangled and he smiled.

“You kept your promise.”

“Of course I did,” she breathed, meeting his eyes. Jellal stood and Erza flew at him. She wrapped her arms tightly around his middle and he pressed his nose to her hair – the realization that she was now almost a whole head shorter than him came just after the realization that the body he'd glimpsed during her requip was soft in new places... but her hold was also very strong.

Erza had become _strong_.


	3. Chapter 3

_X780_

The wind was calm and the air, hot. Jellal watched her from the grass, dribbling sand between her fingers. Erza's shoulders were somehow higher and lighter as if a burden had been lifted. He grinned and joined her at the water's edge. She scooted close enough for her arm to brush his.

“It's been a while since we sat on a beach together,” he said just over the sound of the waves. Erza laughed lightly and hugged her knees to her chest.

“We sit by the river all the time.”

“That's not the same thing. You can _see_ other side of the river. All the way out here, there's nothing. Just ocean.” He glanced over to find her transfixed by the crease of water and night sky.

“This beach feels different than the other.” Erza sighed and closed her eyes. “The air tastes better.” She paused and rested her chin on the tops of her knees. “Are you happy, Jellal?”

“I am. Are you?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, turning her head to the side and smiling at him. “I am.”

“I was so proud of you today.” She flushed pink and he reached over to brush her hair over her shoulder. His fingertips lingered on her cheek. “You're _so_ strong and it amazes me.”

“I don't know who I'd be without you.”

“You'd be just as strong and smart and beautiful if I wasn't here. Today was just a formality in my mind, Erza. You've _always_ been this incredible. Now you have an S-Class rank to prove it.”

“You think I'm beautiful?”

Jellal froze and cleared his throat as he stretched his legs out in front of him. “I do. There isn't anyone more beautiful than you.”

“I think you're biased.” Erza closed the few inches between them and leaned into his side. Without hesitation, Jellal's arm slid around her.

“Maybe.” Jellal sighed and Erza gazed up at him. She brushed her finger over the markings below his eye before bringing his forehead to hers. He wasn't quite sure what possessed him to tilt his head slightly to the right and kiss her but the instant their lips touched his skin crackled. Erza's hand pressed gently against his cheek and Jellal's fingers threaded into her hair. She returned his kiss with a desperation that made him regret not kissing her sooner.

When Jellal pulled back, her eyes were still closed and her lips slightly parted. His heart raced and his head felt as if it might detach and float away. Erza's eyes fluttered open and her fingers moved from his cheek to brush over his lips that still tingled. She leaned in again but stilled at the sound of a rustling in the woods behind them. Jellal sighed and stood. He offered a hand to Erza, who pulled herself to her feet. When he turned back the way he'd come, she squeezed his hand.

“Jellal,” she whispered, tugging him back toward her. “Did – did you mean it just now?”

“Did I mean what?”

Erza heaved a deep breath. “When you kissed me. Did you mean it? Are we...”

“I meant it.” He stepped in front of her and brought one hand to her cheek. _“You_ are my most important person, Erza. _I meant it.”_ Jellal ducked his head and kissed her again. Erza's hand closed in the fabric of his shirt and he couldn't tell if she wanted him to come closer or if she was holding herself back.

“I meant it, too,” she whispered against his lips. He felt her smile and kissed her once more before stepping back.

“We should go. I think the Master wants to pack up early and you've never been a morning person,” Jellal said with a grin.

* * *

 

Mirajane's eyes burned a hole into Erza's back from below but she couldn't be bothered to care. Her gaze combed over the S-Class job board with proud curiosity. Mirajane could glare all she wanted but it wouldn't change the fact that Erza now outranked her. The disparity wouldn't last forever – in fact, the oldest Strauss sibling was on track to close the gap within a year – but the current situation filled Erza's chest with a petty brand of glee.

One scrap of paper finally caught her attention but a voice behind her stayed her hand.

“That one's mine,” Laxus drawled.

“You can't claim jobs that are still on the board,” she said glancing over her shoulder haughtily. “Everyone knows that.”

“Base rank mage rules don't apply on the second floor.”

Erza spun around to find him casually leaning back in a chair with his feet propped on the tabletop. Laxus's arrogance always irked her but he didn't outrank her anymore and patience ran thin. Without breaking eye contact, Erza reached over and snatched the slip of paper in question off the board. His lips twisted into a smirk.

“Have it your way, then, Scarlet. Go get your ass kicked.” He barked a laugh and yanked his feet off the table. The chair fell forward, its front legs banging on the planked floor loudly. “Make sure you wash the stench of defeat off yourself before you come crawling up here again, though, I can't stand the smell.”

Laxus left her alone on the second floor and stalked out of the guildhall. Erza crumpled the job slip in frustration.

* * *

 

Streams of poison sap burned her hands as Erza hacked at the mass of thick vines with intoxicated rage. Her sword would need to be repaired as well as most of the leather straps under her armor. With every swipe of her blade the already raw skin of her palms screamed in pain and embarrassment. Laxus had _tricked_ her into this job! He'd set an entry-level trap lined with her own ego and she'd walked right into it.

Erza kicked the scraps of formerly animated weeds into a pile and pulled an ignition spell from her requip space. Without considering the consequences, she tossed the square of paper carelessly toward the plant remains. The coarse trichomes took a moment to catch fire but the oozing sap burst into roaring blue flames as soon as the heat reached the first string dripping from an open cut.

In surprise and horror, Erza stumbled backwards and into a half-dead bramble. Thorns snagged the edge of her skirt and broke through the exposed skin of her thighs. With angry scream, Erza wrapped her raw fingers around the hilt of her widest blade and slashed the bramble to pieces.

Her thighs stung, the burns on her hands were starting to seep, and her hair was a tangled mess. With every painful step that brought her closer to the train station – and home – Erza vowed to never bother with plant magic again. Nothing good ever came from sentient flora.

* * *

 

“Make sure you keep the burns covered or they'll fester.” Porlyusica handed over a pot of salve and a roll of bandages. “Change the dressings once a day. Wash gently and reapply the cream. It'll sting.”

_“Great,”_ Erza muttered. She waved the items away into her requip space with a nonchalance that made the already cranky healer purse her lips.

“This is for the bramble cuts on your backside.” Erza took the bottle with a dismayed expression. It had a short atomizer spray top. “I suggest you get one of your dormitory-mates to help you with this one or you'll waste it trying to get the angle right.”

“What if I just took the top off and applied it with a piece of cotton or –”

_“So you're a healer now?”_ Porlyusica snapped. “Glad to know I've wasted my time! Apply it however you like, girl, it makes no difference to _me_.” Erza's face fell in shame. “If you want it to actually improve, you'll do it exactly as I say.”

“Thank you,” Erza murmured apologetically, taking the bottle.

The walk from Porlyusica's tree to Magnolia proper hurt worse than the train ride when she'd still had thorns burrowed in her thighs.

_“Hey, Erza, wait up!”_ The voice that called to her from the far end of the bridge made her skin crawl painfully. Her shoulders slumped in defeat at the sound of his heavy footfalls and she didn't turn to greet Simon when he caught up. “How did your job go?” he asked with an obnoxious enthusiasm as he fell into step beside her.

“Flawlessly,” Erza bit out.

“Is – is that sarcasm?” Simon's eyes ran over her from head to foot. She hated it but at the same time hoped her bedraggled appearance would spare her any further interaction. “You look –”

“However I look is exactly how I feel, Simon.”

“What happened to your hands? And...” he trailed off at the sight of the red blotches on her thighs. Erza sighed and came to a stop at a corner she knew better than perhaps any other corner in town.

“Simon, I've had a miserable day. You'll have to forgive me but I really need to get home.”

“Of course,” he said with a sympathetic nod. Simon's hands slid into his pockets. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” Erza grimaced and turned away from him. Her eyes slid down the road that would lead to Fairy Hills where any number of female guildmates would be happy to help with the medicated spray Porlyusica had given her. _However,_ the thought of taking another hit to her pride caused every inch of her body to cringe.

Erza's gaze turned south. At the other end of the road was Jellal. The choice was easy. Simon's eyes on her back stung less and less with every step away from him.

* * *

 

Jellal opened his door, raised one eyebrow, and wordlessly moved aside. Erza stopped in the middle of his small living room. Her eyes swept over the familiar apartment before falling to her bandaged hands.

“What happened?” he asked quietly as the door clicked shut.

“Laxus tricked me,” she said pitifully. Jellal stepped in front of her and took her hands. He inspected the bandages closely.

“Who did this to you?”

“A plant,” she whispered. “Plant magic is dark magic, Jellal.”

“Should we be reporting this vicious plant life to the Magic Council, then?” His question was laced with humor but Erza's eyes spilled over with tears. Jellal's smile fell from his face and he pulled her into an embrace. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.”

Erza sniffled and hid her face in his chest. “I'm so humiliated, Jellal.”

“How are you humiliated?” he asked softly.

“It's Laxus's fault,” she paused and blinked away more tears. “And Mirajane.”

“I've noticed you two have a rivalry going on. Why?”

“Because she's awful.” Erza recognized, however vaguely, she was being dramatic. “I don't know how she managed to get Laxus involved but I –”

“Hey,” Jellal whispered. His lips brushed over her ear as he cut her off. “You have to let it go. Your stubbornness is going to hurt you a lot worse than plant magic if you don't learn to control it.”

Erza looked up at him. “ _Dark_ plant magic, Jellal.” He grinned and kissed her forehead.

“So what's the damage? Tell me about these bandages.” He gently guided her to his two-cushion love seat and Erza hesitated. “What is it?”

“My hands were burned by the plant's sap but there's more.” Erza chewed on her lip before huffing and turning her back to him. “I may have tripped into some brambles trying to get away from the plant carcass.”

“You _may_ have tripped? Erza, your legs look awful!” She tried not to flinch when he touched the raised pattern of stings. “This is because of a dead plant?”

“Well, I kind of set it on fire...” Erza sighed and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Maybe a little too hastily in retrospect. Apparently, poisonous sap is also incredibly flammable.”

“So you hacked up a magically animated plant, burned your hands in the process, then _set it on fire,_ and tripped backwards into a bramble?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“I assume you've seen Porlyusica already?”

“She bandaged my hands and gave me a salve and some spray for my legs.” Erza turned back around and could not control the redness in her face. “That's why I'm here, actually.” Jellal took her hands again and waited. “I need help with the spray. I... I can't ask anyone at Fairy Hills! _I just can't!_ ”

Jellal's eyebrows raised again, slowly. Erza lost the rest of her composure.

“It's humiliating enough that I let Laxus goad me into taking a stupid job I wasn't prepared for at all but no one can know how badly I botched the clean up! I can't let this get back to Mirajane or Laxus or _anyone!”_ She knew she was rambling but it had been a long day. “Fairy Hills is a haven for gossip and I'm sure Simon has already told ten people!”

“Simon?”

Erza groaned. “Yes, Simon. He saw me on the street and asked me a bunch of questions – you know how he is.” A hot tear slid down her cheek. “I'm so tired, Jellal.”

“I can tell. What do you need me to do?”

“You have to take this –” Erza held out her hand and the spray bottle Porlyusica had given her appeared. “And spray it on the mess of bramble scratches so they don't itch and get worse.”

“What about your hands?” Jellal took the spray bottle and inspected the yellowish liquid inside.

“I have this.” The pot of cream appeared in her bandaged hand next. “I'm supposed to clean the wounds daily and put it on afterward.”

“I think I can handle that,” he said. Jellal smiled and took the salve from her. “I guess it's a good thing you still have a drawer here, huh?”

“Yeah.” Erza's mind reeled. Did she have anything in the drawer anymore? Did she have proper pajamas in her own requip space that wouldn't aggravate her injuries?

“Hey,” Jellal interrupted her wild train of thought for the second time that evening. “I'll sleep on the couch if you want. I know we haven't – uh, you haven't been in –”

“Your bed?” Erza offered with a grin. Most of the time _he_ flustered _her_ and she enjoyed any opportunity to turn the tables.

“Right.” He smiled down at her. “My bed. I'll take the couch.”

“You don't have to.”

“I'm _not_ putting you on the couch. Not when you're already limited in sleep positions.”

“That's not what I meant, Jellal. I don't mind sharing the bed. I'm in no condition to seduce you.” She held up her bandaged hands. “They're kinda useless.”

Jellal laughed softly and gathered the medications and spare bandages. “Erza, you wouldn't have to try very hard to seduce me. I'm pretty sure you could get away with just showing up.”

* * *

 

The medicated spray was cool and soothed her itching, flaming skin. From her prone position Erza could see the moonlight spilling in through the window. She didn't have to turn her head to know Jellal was sprawled out on his back next to her. The sound of his breathing was more comforting than the medicine he'd spritzed over her bare thighs.

Her last thoughts before falling asleep were of what exactly a seduction might entail. Simply _showing up_ would not do at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken creative liberties with the Wizard Saints.

_X781_

Erza thought the riverbank to be a pretty view at any hour but there was something about sunrise that appealed to her the most. When the first breezes of the day kissed her skin and face, she couldn't possibly be bothered by petty irritations like Mirajane's promotion to S-Class. Or the infuriating grin Mirajane sported as she hung over the second floor railing in the exact same wolfish manner as Laxus.

It was all too simple to close her eyes and focus on the sound of the rushing waters, the cool grass, and other wonderful things – like the feel of Jellal's hands in her hair and his lips on hers and how absolutely solid his body had been when he'd pressed her against the door of his apartment the night before. She was _tired_ of goodnight kisses. Erza wanted good _morning_ kisses and fewer layers of clothing between them. She wanted –

“Hey.” Jellal's voice was casual when he joined her in the grass. Erza's face burned. She sat up quickly and cleared her throat.

“It's morning.”

“Uh, yeah. It's morning.” Jellal raised an eyebrow and offered her a muffin. “Hungry?”

_“Starving.”_ The parchment paper peeled away easily revealing her new favorite, raspberry cheese. Dusting the top of the muffin was a layer of brown sugar crumble. If not for Jellal, she'd probably have strawberry cake for breakfast every morning and call it good. The muffin was warm and she devoured it quickly. He took the wad of parchment from her and stuffed it into his pocket.

“So what were you daydreaming about?” he asked, nudging her shoulder with his. “You're always out here in the morning with your eyes closed and a smile on your face.”

“Oh, you know –” Erza picked apart a clover blossom. She'd rather not admit how often her mind strayed to the low lit room in her imagination where her hair spread over his pillows and his hands spread over _her._ “Nothing, really. _Stuff.”_

“Stuff,” he repeated. “I see. That's so specific.” Erza focused her eyes on the water. Her cheeks felt hot and her heart jumped when he leaned in so his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “You're blushing,” he whispered. Erza wished she wasn't so easily embarrassed. For all her racy fantasies, just the _hint_ that he was possibly aware of them set her skin aflame. He laughed softly and kissed her cheek. “I'm sorry, I'll stop teasing you. I actually wanted to talk about something else.”

“What about?” she asked, still trying to dial back her galloping pulse.

“Master Makarov wants me to go to Era with him this week. He's petitioned for my place as a Wizard Saint.” Jellal's eyes were wide and Erza smiled.

“He believes in you. I do too.”

“It's a stretch. They could kick me out on my ass for being so young and impudent. Sixteen isn't much to speak of when I hear some of the others are practically ancient.”

“Your heavenly body magic is powerful and unique, Jellal,” Erza said. “Your range of mastery is incredible, as well. Gildarts and Mystogan –”

_“Mystogan,”_ Jellal muttered. “There's something off about that guy.”

“I don't know how you can feel anything about him at all. He's never around.”

“He doesn't need to be.” Jellal's eyes were on the river but his expression was one Erza knew well. When his thoughts lingered heavily on magic, his brow furrowed and his lips turned down slightly. She knew there were a million little cogs turning in his head. Sixteen or no, Jellal's understanding of magic was unmatched by anyone in their guild.

“When do you leave?” she asked, breaking his concentration.

“Tuesday at sunrise.” He finally turned his eyes back down to her and smiled. “Care to see me off or does the mighty Erza Scarlet have plans?”

“I suppose I could drag myself out of bed at that unholy hour to shake your hand goodbye.”

“Shake my hand?” he asked with a laugh. “Is that all? I was hoping for something a little more...” Jellal trailed off and his fingers found the ends of her hair. “Maybe you could stay with me Monday night?”

“Stay with you? Like –”

“Like overnight.” He smiled and curled her hair around his finger. Erza stared at him and wondered if mind reading was a new skill he'd picked up. She blinked to dispel the notion. Of course he couldn't have seen her inner most thoughts of them both tangled together and – “Erza,” Jellal said, tugging on her hair. “You don't have to if you don't want to.”

“I do!” she blurted. “I mean, yes, I'd like that. Sorry, I'm distracted this morning.”

“More _stuff?”_ he asked with a dimpled grin. Erza unsuccessfully fought back another blush.

“How long will you be gone?”

“I'm not sure. I guess it really depends on how things go.”

“Will you have to appear before the Magic Council?”

Jellal laughed quietly. “Maybe I should've brought you along when the Master asked to see me. It seems I didn't ask enough questions.”

“I'm sorry,” Erza said pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I'm just curious.”

“Curious or _worried?”_ He turned his head to face her. She reached up to brush the stubborn strands of his hair off his forehead. Her finger lingered on the top most tip of his tattoo.

“Both. There's been more rumors about your teacher. They're getting weirder, Jellal. I'd like to think the Council wouldn't interrogate you but...” Erza grimaced.

“I've heard rumors, too.” Jellal sighed. “I don't know anything, though.” He scowled and brought his knees up against his chest, the parchment paper crinkled in his pocket. What he'd seen during his time with Brain and his little guild still bothered him. Strange words, strange prayers, a hodgepodge of oddities and artifacts, and reverence of the man himself – all of that could be interpreted in any number of ways. His work had even been mostly sanctioned.

_Mostly._ Such a tricky word.

If given half the chance Jellal would've questioned Brain himself. So many loose endsdangled senselessly they were beginning to take up more than one row of shelves in the library of his mind. The word _Nirvit_ haunted him even more so than Sorano's hedge around the _Six Prayers_.

_“Jellal?”_ Erza tugged on his shirt sleeve insistently.

“Hm.”

“Are you alright?”

“I'm fine.” His eyes were still stuck on the river and his thoughts were in a far away castle covered in vines.

“Really? Because I've been trying to get your attention and you didn't even flinch.”

Jellal's eyes slid back over to Erza and he smiled. All the messy boxes in his head were shoved back into place. “Sorry. I guess I'm distracted today, too.”

“You have better reasons than me.” Erza bit her lip and grinned. “A Wizard Saint,” she whispered playfully. “You'll outrank me by miles.”

“I cross my heart that I'll never take advantage of my position over you.”

Erza snorted. “You couldn't take advantage of me if you tried.”

“No?”

“No,” she said flatly. “I'd slice you to pieces.”

“You'd have to catch me first,” his mouth curled into an arrogant smirk.

“So you'd use _Meteor_ and cheat?”

“Using everything at my disposal is hardly cheating, Erza.” He closed the space between them and Erza's breath caught in her throat. “That accusation is pretty funny coming from someone with an entire arsenal in her pocket.”

Erza's eyes fell to his lips and her thoughts scattered. “You're cheating _right now.”_

“I can't help that you're so easily distracted.” He kiss burned slowly through herand made her head spin. An idea began to form out of the chaos, though, and Erza grasped the shoulder seams of his shirt. Predictably, Jellal's fingers clutched in her hair. She enjoyed his surprise when her thigh slid over his lap and her knee came to rest in the grass beside him. “Erza –”

“Hm?” She hummed against his lips, pushing him backwards to the ground.

“We're –” His breaths were coming faster. “We're kind of in public.” Despite his protests, he made no move to stop her.

“So?” She smiled and her fingers closed around something cold. “This is as good a place as any to prove a point.” The blade of her dagger poked at his chin. “I'd hate to take advantage of you, though.”

“Erza,” he breathed carefully, eyes falling to the metal gleaming in morning sunlight. _“That's_ cheating.” She sat up on his hips and sent the dagger back where it came from.

“We should declare ourselves equals, then.” Erza held out her hand and caught a glimpse of his earlier arrogance when he grabbed her and pulled her down. Before she could stop him, she was in his place on the bottom.

“You're too proud, Erza,” he teased, nudging her nose with his. “Too quick to declare a victory and unwilling to accept defeat. It might get you into trouble one day.”

“Trouble like _this?”_ she asked in a low voice she didn't entirely recognize as her own. “What are you going to do?”

Jellal's didn't move an inch. The breeze coming off the water ruffled his hair and Erza's skirt. His fingers were still curled around her wrists and his knees were still planted between hers. The sun rose steadily and soon the street above would be filled with the citizens of Magnolia. He finally kissed her and Erza felt his body relax ever so slowly.

An awkward cough disrupted the moment. Erza watched Jellal's eyes rise up the gentle slope of the embankment and settle on the interloper.

“Simon,” he said with surprise. Jellal squeezed her wrist once more before jumping up and offering a hand to Erza. “Did you just get back? How was the big city?”

Erza felt Simon's eyes on her as she brushed her skirt free of any grass remnants. She didn't look up at him until she'd taken Jellal's hand once more. His expression was nearly blank – _nearly_ but not quite.

“It was alright,” he said in an artificially light tone, still watching Erza. She wanted to ask after his sister and if he'd found any leads but kept her mouth shut. Her friendship with Simon had been strained as of late. He could be perfectly pleasant around Jellal but with her there was always a heavy air of cloying desperation. “I missed Magnolia, though.” His eyes flit back and forth between Erza and Jellal. “I didn't mean to interrupt.”

“It's fine,” Erza blurted, finding her voice. “I was just leaving anyway.” She could feel Jellal's frown. “I'm taking a job in Hargeon today.”

“You are?” Jellal asked, all his attention back on her. “But –”

“I'll be be back tomorrow afternoon.” She squeezed his hand and smiled. “Nothing's changed.” Erza released Jellal and climbed up the embankment. “I'm glad you're back, Simon.”

She didn't have to turn around to know Jellal and Simon both watched her go.

* * *

 

_“Jellal.” Her voice was a delicious whisper. She was hot and slick and smelled of freesia. He dropped kisses along her jaw and the slope of her neck one after another – he couldn't stop. Vibrant strands of moonlit scarlet stuck to her skin and his. Jellal never wanted to leave her orbit._

_“Jellal,” she breathed again. He took her lips in a kiss that made every inch of him tremble with barely restrained anticipation._

_The room suddenly shook and he froze. His forehead hurt._

“Jellal!” It was the sharp jab to his ribs that started him awake and he realized he'd been pressed against the window when the train jerked. “You awake over there?” Master Makarov's voice grated. He definitely preferred Erza's.

“Yeah,” Jellal managed. His skin still prickled with his dream and he shifted in his seat. “Are we in Era?”

“No, we still have several hours.” Makarov eyed him from the opposite bench. “Don't get lost in your daydreams, son, these proceedings could make your career as a wizard.”

Jellal's eyes fell out of focus as he watched the scenery pass. “Will I appear before the Magic Council?” He felt the Master's hard gaze.

“Yes, but not all Saints sit on the Council, and not all Council members are Saints. It's the Magic Council who will appoint your title officially.” Makarov paused and sighed. “And they'll likely ask you if you've had contact with Brain.”

“I haven't.”

“None at all?”

“Not for a long time.”

“No one is going to interrogate you, Jellal. Technically Brain isn't a criminal but he _is_ under suspicion.”

“Why exactly?”

“There's some new blood on the Magic Council. She's been dropping hints that he's experimenting on mages. Children in particular.” Makarov's eyes never left Jellal's. “The allegations paired with his _unusual_ guild that consists mostly of former child slaves who escaped from a Zeref worshipping cult are kicking up suspicious dust.”

“I see.”

“Your magic is...” For the first time, Makarov's gaze wandered. He studied his hands with a frown. “Well, it's distinct.”

“And it doesn't help that I came from the same situation as the others _and_ exclusively trained with a man already on the edge of technicalities for two years?” Jellal mused.

“No one thinks you've done anything, I'm only warning you of what might come up.”

“What did you mean by new blood on the Council?”

Makarov's eyebrows furrowed in a way that belied distaste above anything else. “There's a woman called Ultear. Her mother was quite powerful and respected.”

“I didn't realize the Magic Council had a legacy obligation.”

“It doesn't. Ur Milkovich never sat on the Council nor was she a Wizard Saint. I suspect she _could've_ held that title if she'd ever bothered to leave the north.”

Jellal's mind connected a few dots and be blinked in surprise. “Ur Milkovich? That's –”

“It is. I wouldn't bring it up with Gray, though. It's a sore subject.”

“So her daughter is on the Magic Council?”

“For the last few months, yes. Normally junior members don't have much sway but Miss Milkovitch is in a class all by herself, from what I hear.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not bad,” Makarov said somberly, locking eyes with Jellal once again. “Just something you should be aware of.”

* * *

 

Jellal felt it the instant he stepped off the train. The space between his temples began to throb dully and there was a pressure – an insatiable, but _curious,_ pressure. His headache persisted throughout the afternoon, faded as the sun set, and returned with a force the next morning. Jellal opted to say nothing to Master Makarov. He didn't want anything to derail their purpose in Era. This was partly because he _wanted_ the title of Wizard Saint, and partly because he'd rather not return on a second trip when invasive pressure turned out to be something other than a natural headache. He didn't use the magic often but Jellal knew a mind probe when he felt one.

The Ten Wizard Saints were not part of the acropolis-style building the Magic Council occupied. Their location was much older and commanded a very different type of pretense. Jellal had been given directions by Makarov who told him he'd need to go alone. Though they were not saints in the religious sense, the structure very much resembled a temple. There were a cluster of pillars under a stone roof with metopes covered in carved designs. As Jellal slowly mounted the steps he could see they were actually people – mages. The carvings were a mix of brutally violent scenes and mages bent over desks and books. Jellal knew the tedium of study well.

His headache disappeared as soon as he stepped among the cluster of pillars. Shadows lurked and hung from every scalloped edge and hard jut of stone. Jellal felt alone but knew he wasn't. The shrouded panel of Wizard Saints appeared at the far end of the temple beyond the pillars. All around him the air thrummed with magic. For a moment he didn't understand what they wanted from him but as his clothing and hair were ruffled by a passing breeze, he realized he didn't need to do anything. He'd already been measured and judged before ever setting foot in Era.

Whispers filled his ears, each voice overlapping the other until their words were so tangled he _almost_ missed it.

_“Occludere,”_ one of the voices hissed. Jellal closed his eyes and tried to focus but the wind suddenly stopped. When he opened his eyes again, the temple was truly empty. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the pillars and his headache had returned.

That night he paced the length of his hotel room over and over again. The word _Occludere_ stuck in his mind. It sounded vaguely familiar but Jellal couldn't quite place it. The sky was already turning purple when he finally fell into his bed and slept.

* * *

 

She had a hungry sort of gaze. Hungry and something else he couldn't name. The uncomfortable feeling of not knowing what was happening around him had already begun to irritate. Jellal didn't care to hold her eyes for too long but Ultear had no qualms about openly staring at him. The first time she smirked he had no doubts this woman was the cause of his headache. He'd never met her before but she felt familiar. Not her _person_ but the way she brushed against his mind – it set him on edge.

The Magic Council entertained his confirmation in a room resembling a court. Jellal couldn't decide if this was common – not that appointing new Wizard Saints was common at all – or if the nature of the room had anything to do with the questions he knew were coming. Chairman Seam's beady eyes focused on Jellal but it was Councilman Org who spoke.

“Saint Fernandes.” Councilman Org's voice echoed off the walls and Jellal had to squash the impulse to quirk an eyebrow. He hadn't realized the title would be applicable immediately. “It is our understanding that you studied under Brain, the former head of the Bureau of Magical Development.”

Jellal cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yes, that's true.”

“To the best of your knowledge was Brain loyal to his position and did he conform to all known regulations regarding said position at the time of your tutelage?”

“Yes.” The pressure between his temples suddenly increased and Jellal bit the inside of his cheek harshly. Councilman Org frowned.

“Care to elaborate on that, Saint Fernandes?”

“Brain was a strange man,” Jellal began. His eyes flit to Master Makarov who betrayed nothing, and then to Ultear who only continued to smirk. “His research was broad and bordered on the outlandish but from what I understand that was the nature of his position.”

“Did you at any time see evidence of coercion amongst the members of his guild? I'm sure I don't have to explain the subtext to someone of your background.”

“No,” Jellal bit out. “They weren't slaves.” Councilman Org turned to Chairman Seam but the Chairman's narrowed eyes never left Jellal.

“Have you had contact with Brain since you left his care?”

Jellal almost snorted. What an odd word to describe his time with Brain. “Nothing significant, no.”

“Define significant,” Chairman Seam finally spoke.

“He sent me a letter maybe five months after I returned to Magnolia inquiring after my health and progress. I always meant to respond, but didn't.”

“Why?” the Chairman persisted.

“I was –” Jellal faltered for the first time. “Distracted.” Chairman Seam sat back in his chair, satisfied. Jellal didn't need to glance at Ultear to know her smirk deepened into a full grin.

Councilman Org scratched something onto the pages of a docket Jellal couldn't see. With a wave of the Chairman's hand, he'd been dismissed.

* * *

 

“How does it feel?” Master Makarov asked.

“What?”

“Your prize, son. You earned it.”

Jellal gazed down at the glittering medallion. He didn't think he'd ever actually wear it even though it hung from a thickly woven ribbon. “I feel the same, I guess.”

“I'm curious what you thought of Lady Ultear.”

“I don't like her,” Jellal blurted. He scowled and returned the medallion to its velvet box. Makarov sighed and leaned back against the bench that lined their train compartment. “Can I ask a strange question, Master?”

“Of course.”

“The temple.” Jellal pondered how best to word his question. “I heard things. Whispers.” Makarov grunted and his eyes closed.

“Anything in particular?”

“I'm not sure, to be honest.”

“If I were you,” Makarov muttered through a yawn. “I would try and unravel whatever it is as quickly as possible. Could be important.”

“Right,” Jellal said as Makarov very clearly dozed off.

The train raced through the country side and Jellal's thoughts began to drift further away from the Saints' temple and closer to Erza.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey! So I actually didn't forget about this one! Ha!

_X782_

Mirajane's sorrow touched Erza in a deep and unexpected way. She couldn't imagine losing someone so close to her. Tears leaked from Mirajane's eyes throughout the service but she openly sobbed near the end. Erza let go of Jellal's hand and wrapped her arms around her rival. Mirajane's shoulders shook and her teardrops landed on Erza's neck.

“I'm sorry,” Erza whispered. “I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you,” Mirajane breathed. She finally pulled back and brushed Erza's damp hair from her shoulder. Though they'd known each other for years, Erza thought there was something different in Mirajane's eyes. Something sad. Something _empty._ When the rain began to fall neither Elfman nor Mirajane reached for an umbrella.

* * *

 

Erza slid backwards onto Jellal's bed and curled her fingers around the edge of the mattress. The piping dug into her fingers but she didn't feel it. Lisanna's funeral had left her with a hard knot in her chest. She didn't have blood family – only her guild. And Jellal. Maybe it was selfish to put him above everyone else but the thought of a Jellal-shaped hole in her life stole the breath from her lungs.

“Hey.” His voice startled her. Jellal knelt at her knees and took her hands in his. “Are you okay?”

“Lisanna is gone,” she whispered. “I've never seen Mirajane so upset. It's like – it's like she lost a part of herself.”

“I imagine that's very much how she feels. Their lives before Fairy Tail weren't easy.”

“No.” Erza's teeth worried her lip before she met his eyes. “Jellal, if something ever happened to you, I don't know what I would do.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me.” He shook his head and left a soft kiss on each one of her knuckles.

“You don't know that. What if –” Jellal's sigh cut her off.

“Erza, listen to me. You're right. I don't know what'll happen in the future but, like Mirajane, you're strong. You don't need me to survive.”

“But I do.” Erza's throat tightened and a tear slid down her cheek without permission. “I – I –” Jellal suddenly stood and pulled her into his chest.

“I wish you could see what I see when I look at you, Erza,” he whispered into her hair. “You're strong and fierce but always ready to grant kindness to everyone except yourself. You _can_ survive without me and _have!”_

“That was different.”

“Was it?”

“We had letters and I always knew you'd come back.” Erza's arms wrapped around his middle and she hid her face in his shirt. “Death isn't the same,” she whispered.

“Good thing I'm not dying, then.” Jellal's hands grasped her shoulders and slid up over her neck to her chin. He aimed her gaze upwards and smiled. “I will always have faith in you, Erza, even if at this moment you don't. Without me you'd be the same person you are now. Your spirit is indomitable.”

“I'd be lonely.” Jellal's smile finally faded.

“I'd be lonely without you, too, Erza.” When he kissed her the familiar mess of butterflies in her stomach stirred. He'd kissed her hundreds of times and she'd been in his bed and under his body more nights than she had fingers but there was something about the first kiss of any given day that left her heart pounding and her toes curling.

“Stay with me,” Jellal breathed. She wondered if he realized that he never truly had to ask.

* * *

 

Mystogan knew he'd been watching him so Jellal didn't bother to try and be subtle. Whether he liked it or not, Jellal was a veteran when it came to S-Class trials, despite not holding the title himself. When he'd asked Master Makarov about his rank within the guild, the old man had simply waved his hand and muttered something about superfluity.

Mystogan remained a puzzle in Jellal's head. He was gifted, sure, but his magic rubbed Jellal the wrong way – not because it was _wrong_ but because it was _different._ One of the things he'd learned while under Brain's tutelage was a very keen sense of self awareness. Jellal understood his own magic inside and out. He could mull over different magics and have a general understanding fairly quickly. Not only did Mystogan's magical type elude him but his equipment raised eyebrows.

Jellal had seen holder-type magic before. Cana had an array of cards, and he'd witnessed celestial spirit summonings, as well. Bixlow had his own type of extraneous equipment, and there was a host of magical items floating around the world. But _this?_ No, Mystogan's magic was an entirely different animal. His staves were unique and the magic he could sense in them was surprisingly strong. He used them with a dexterity that implied they'd been made especially for him – which was another oddity. Where had he acquired them? Who had the skill to construct such things? All of his questions churned away in Jellal's head.

The match that determined Mystogan's new rank wasn't against Jellal but he did manage a sneak peek. He'd been working on a life-like thought projection and, though the illusion was still a work in progress, used it to watch Mystogan go toe to toe with another mage. He moved quickly and impressively. Each staff empowered him with a variety of spells and circles. Mystogan seemed to draw his magical strength from the staves instead of the other way around. Despite his frustration over the unsolved puzzle, Jellal was impressed.

Once Mystogan claimed his victory, his eyes flit to the shadows where Jellal's thought projection hid. He dissolved the projection immediately.

Tenrou Island consisted of highly irregular landscape and, once a person ventured beyond the shores, was actually much larger than it appeared. Despite the strangeness, Mystogan wasn't hard to find. He stood out against the rocks with his billowing capes and collection of staves. Jellal stood some feet away with his hands in his pockets. He could remember a very different sunset on a nearby beach two years previous.

“Well?” the muffled voice of Mystogan asked. “I passed the Master's inspection. Have I passed yours, as well?”

“Mine is significantly less important,” Jellal said with a low laugh. “ _Un_ important, actually.”

“You're curious about me.”

“I am. Your magic and the way you employ it is definitely outside of what I'd call typical.”

“And you would know?” Mystogan still hadn't turned to face him. He stayed crouched on the rock pilings, gazing out at the ocean.

“I've seen a lot of weird stuff in this world. My definition of typical isn't a standard by any stretch but I do have a talent for understanding magic and mastering it.”

“Are you bragging on yourself?”

“Not at all. It's a fact.”

Mystogan's silence wasn't one of denial – it was more thoughtful. “What do you want to know?”

“Your staves. How did you acquire them? Were they made specifically for you?”

“Not specifically for _me,_ no, only to my specifications.”

“Master craftsmen of these items are hard to find in Fiore,” Jellal hedged. He wondered how much Mystogan would divulge.

“Yes, they are.”

“Is Fiore your home country?” At that Mystogan stood and turned to face Jellal.

“No,” he said, his words almost carried away by the wind. “But I don't think yours is either.”

“How do you know that?” Jellal whispered.

“It's just a hunch.” Mystogan shrugged and headed back in the direction of the path Jellal had used to find him. “Don't let it get to you, Saint Fernandes,” he muttered. “I'm of no consequence. We all have our burdens. I am not yours.”

* * *

 

The space of ocean between Tenrou Island and the mainland stretched endlessly. Jellal had stopped trying to map it's location after his first visit. Not even a breeze could be felt as they disembarked. Jellal stood on the bow of the ship and tried to catch the freshest air when he heard Master Makarov's short steps behind him.

“You're uneasy,” Makarov said, digging in his pockets for tobacco – or whatever it was he stuffed into his pipe.

“Only curious.” Jellal grinned down at his guild master. “I'm always curious.”

“Some things are better left alone.”

“I'm trying to let it go.”

“But?”

Jellal sighed. “I asked Mystogan if his home was Fiore and he said no.”

“Fairy Tail has a handful of members who have emigrated.”

“He also said he doesn't believe Fiore to be _my_ home country either.” Jellal waited for a reply but caught the scent of smoke instead.

“Well?” Makarov asked. “Is it?”

“I don't know,” Jellal murmured. “There's a lot of things I can't remember. I was a slave for a lot longer than Erza and the others. It's... it's blurry.”

“You were very young,” Makarov offered quietly. “No one faults you for not remembering.”

“And this mark on my face.” Jellal huffed and ran a hand through his hair. He wished the wind would pick up soon. “I don't know what it means.”

“And you think Mystogan does?”

“I –” Jellal paused. _Did he?_ “No,” he sighed. “No, I don't.”

“It's hard to solve a riddle when you haven't heard all the pieces. Maybe give it a rest for now.” The smell of Makarov's tobacco dissipated and Jellal's eyes fell to his feet.

“Maybe,” he whispered.

* * *

 

The street lamps were just beginning to flicker on when Erza left Fairy Hills behind. Even though she wasn't a little girl anymore she still felt the pang of past reprimands when she slipped out the front door. She didn't need to sneak – everyone knew her destination.

Erza didn't rush. She enjoyed the evening air and the twinkle of lights against the purple sky of twilight. Ever romantic at heart, she loved it. When Erza crossed the river, she stopped and admired the view of the water. The waves lapped at the pilings and even though she knew the river served an industrial purpose, she still thought it beautiful. As she reached the crest of the hill, the roof of Jellal's apartment building came into view. For a brief moment her excitement peaked, but then quickly tanked at the sight of the small crowd near the entrance.

Simon, along with Sho, mingled with a few residents she'd only ever encountered in passing. Erza considered circling around the building to a service entrance but Sho saw her before she could bolt.

“Erza! What are you doing here this late?” He smiled but Erza couldn't mask her irritation. She felt like Sho should know by now why she'd bother to venture all the way across town at such an hour.

“I'm here to see Jellal,” she answered quietly, avoiding Simon's eyes. This avoidance didn't stop him from speaking to her.

“If you're curious, Mystogan passed his trial. You have another S-Class on the second floor of the guild now.”

“I'm not surprised,” Erza said inching toward the door. “Mystogan is a capable mage.”

“Kinda weird, though,” Sho supplied.

“Masks don't make a person weird,” Simon muttered. _“Secrets_ do.”

Erza bristled. She didn't care for Simon's tone or implication. She and Jellal didn't have _secrets_ it just wasn't any of Simon's business what happened in private.

“Mystogan's secrets are his own. Just like everyone else's,” she tacked on quickly. Simon's jealousy over her relationship with Jellal was never far beneath the surface. He hadn't ever crossed a line or even touched her in a way she didn't like – hewouldn't've had all his fingers if he'd tried – but his gaze was unsettling. She felt it on her back right up until the door of the building shut behind her.

Erza let herself into Jellal's apartment without knocking. Even though the only thing keeping her from Simon's prying eyes was a series of walls, she felt better – _safer_. The front room was lit by a single lamp and a trail of clothing led to the bathroom. Curls of steam escaped between the bathroom door and frame. Erza left Jellal to his bath and put on a kettle of water for tea.

Jellal wasn't a total scatterbrain, even though he did forget simple things like new socks and belts from time to time, but his collection of tea was entirely Erza's doing. She wasn't much to speak of in the kitchen but she did possess the ability to make a decent pot of tea. The kettle sang after a few moments and Erza spooned the dry leaves into a bag. When Jellal joined her she was so engrossed in watching the tea steep, she startled. His hand closed around her shoulder and Erza spun around to find him only half dressed and smiling.

“Did I scare you?” he asked, blotting his hair dry a final time before tossing the damp towel aside. Erza frowned at the sight of his untidiness but didn't move to pick up the towel. She wasn't his mother or maid.

“No, I was just lost in thought.”

“What were you thinking about?” Jellal's hands slid over her shoulders and Erza stepped into his chest. He smelled of soap and his skin was hot against her cheek.

“Nothing important. I heard Mystogan passed his trial.”

“He did.”

“Did you watch?” Erza grinned when a laugh resonated in his chest.

“How did you know I was going to do that?”

“Because you're predictable, Jellal.” Erza sighed and turned back to the tea. “He's a mystery and you love figuring things out.” She could feel him curl a strand of her hair around one finger thoughtfully. He did that often and Erza wondered if he even realized _exactly_ how often it happened.

“He's a powerful mage,” Jellal began slowly. “But he runs opposite of what I'm used to.”

“Meaning?”

“He draws power from his staves instead of the other way around.” Jellal was muttering now. Erza didn't need to turn around to know the expression on his face would be furrowed in thought. If she were to ask him suddenly what color his pants were, he would blink in confusion and need to check before answering. Jellal lapsed in on himself almost as often as he reached for her hair. Erza decided to change the subject before he could get lost.

“Was the island hot?” she asked, turning and pressing a teacup into the hand not occupied with her hair. Jellal detangled himself and smiled again.

“It's always hot. I'm glad to be home. Did you miss me?” Erza watched in irritated amazement when he swallowed the hot tea without even tasting it andset aside his cup.

“No, actually. That's why I'm here.” Erza _sipped_ her tea the way it was meant to be sipped. “I wanted to let you know that I've met someone else. We're eloping.”

“Is that so?” Jellal plucked her cup from her hands and set it aside, as well.

“I was _trying_ to enjoy that,” she said, biting her bottom lip playfully.

“You hate green tea,” he teased, inching his fingers around her shoulders and into her hair again.

“That _wasn't_ green tea, Jellal.”

“No? I didn't notice.”

“I don't imagine you did. Scalding your tastebuds is a great way to never taste anything again.” Erza stepped back when he stepped forward but hit the wall after only three breaths. Jellal's grin set her heart racing and when he kissed her, she forgot about the tea. He'd been gone for five days and she'd _missed_ him. Of course, they'd been separated before – and for longer periods – but since Lisanna's death, Erza had become increasingly aware of exactly how attached to Jellal she was. She wished it bothered her more than it did.

He took her on the kitchen counter, with the tips of her fingers brushing the hot edge of the teapot. His grip on her hips was bruising but Erza wanted his fingerprints on her skin.

“Peach,” he breathed against her lips after they'd finished. Erza wrapped her arms around his neck and slid off the counter.

“What?”

“It was peach tea.” Jellal smiled and Erza kissed the corner of his mouth. He helped her readjust her dress and they finished the pot of tea on his sofa. She wasn't actually interested in the details of Mystogan's trial but the way Jellal's face lit up when he talked about the things that interested him was a priceless thing.

Later, in his bed she slid over his hips and moved much slower. The ache in her heart felt ridiculous because he was _here._ She could _feel_ him beneath her but those reassurances didn't ease the need she felt to stitch him to her side for always.

* * *

 

_X783_

He thought he should've been more excited than he was but the summons sat untouched on Master Makarov's desk as if it had been poisoned. Makarov's eyes were trained on Jellal's frown and he could feel Erza tensing at his side.

“You can say no, Jellal, but I don't know that it's advisable,” he said over his steepled fingers. “The Magic Council usually gets what they want and by any means necessary.”

“Why do they even want me?”

“Because you're a prodigy,” Makarov said with a sigh. “I thought you knew that.”

“But I have nothing to offer.” Erza's hand slid down his arm and her fingers laced with his reassuringly.

“So, you _aren't_ a Wizard Saint and a master of however many types of magic by now?” the old man muttered, pulling out a desk drawer and rooting through it.

“I don't know anything about politics or civics or –” Makarov cut Jellal off with a derisive snort.

_“Civics?_ If you think the Magic Council gives a rat's ass about civics, you haven't been paying attention.” He chirped happily when he found his bag of tobacco and tossed it to the surface of the desk. “You think about it, Jellal, and get back to me. I won't make you correspond with them directly.” He leaned back in his chair and puffed on his pipe. “I'm still your guild master and I won't let them railroad you.”

“Thanks,” Jellal muttered, turning to leave.

“Don't make them wait too long, though,” Makarov said as Erza opened the office door. “They don't like that.”

“Right.” Jellal tugged on Erza's hand and she followed him through the hallway and out of the guildhall.

* * *

 

Jellal's fingers dragged gently through Erza's hair. She didn't stir beside him but he couldn't sleep. The summons from the Magic Council wouldn't leave him alone. They wanted him to sit amongst their ranks but he couldn't figure out _why._ Surely there were more capable people to fill any open spots! Why him?

His mind wandered back to Era. He remembered the strange, rushing magic of the Saints' temple. He remembered the word that still meant nothing to him – of course, he hadn't actually bothered to follow up on that research, had he? _Occludere._ The word felt familiar but the meaning eluded him.

He also remembered the headaches caused by Lady Ultear's mind probe. Jellal didn't think he wanted to be subjected to her presence as often as a Council seat might require. What did she want from him and _why_ did her probe into his inner-most spaces feel so vaguely familiar? Jellal closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. All these strange things aside, he knew he didn't have much of a choice. As much as he hated the idea, he'd have to sit on the Magic Council. Maybe that thought projection of his would come in handier than he'd anticipated.

Jellal rolled to his side and hid his face in the rumpled strands of Erza's hair at her neck. His arm draped over her hips and she roused only just enough to tuck herself backwards into his chest. It would be the endless stretch of nights like these that he'd miss the most.


End file.
